Merged Moments
by Lady Lithe
Summary: Sometimes when things don’t go your way, you just follow your designated path. But with matchmaker Harry Potter trying to direct Ginny Weasley’s path toward another boy, well… Sometimes you just have to take the highway. [Companion piece to AMM&SDOS]
1. Chapter 1: Two Fights for Harry

Merged Moments

By: Lady Lithe

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Summary: Sometimes when things don't go your way, you just follow your designated path. But with matchmaker Harry Potter trying to direct Ginny Weasley's path toward another boy, well… Sometimes you just have to take the highway.

Naru-chan: Ah! I'm so sorry for the delay. I've been so busy lately... I'll start to try writing again. I'm so sorry. But here is the long awaited companion piece to A Matchless Match. It's basically everything is Ginny's point of view.

IMPORTANT: I have incorporated some details from Sweet Days of Summer and A Matchless Match. If you have not read them, it's fine, but you won't understand some facts. These: Ginny finds out that Harry owns Snitch-covered boxers over a bonding moment (Chapter One of Sweet Days of Summer) and Harry tells Ginny that he'll be her matchmaker (Chapter One, A Matchless Match). Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

Chapter One: Two Fights For Harry

_The truth is, I gave my heart away a long time ago, my whole heart, and I never really got it back. – __Sweet Home Alabama_

Ginny froze in the middle of writing a sentence and suddenly looked up. Without really seeing him, she knew he was there. It was something in the air that changed, as if the air had become heavier and thicker, yet lighter and brighter than before. Would she ever be able to explain how she knew or even why she knew? She simply did. And sure enough, he _was_ there. There was a glimpse of his unmistakable chaotic raven locks over the crowd of people as he passed by the library doors. At least…it was unmistakable to her.

Instantly, she rose from her seat and stuffed her things into her bag. It was silly, really, she thought as she fumbled with her ink pot, accidentally smearing some black ink on her fingers in her rush. She was busy and had to finish her work. Professor Snape would surely slaughter her tomorrow if she didn't finish this essay! And she would hate to give him that pleasure. So it was utterly ridiculous of her to leave at the moment—she had actually been making great progress once she had finally resigned herself. Not to mention that leaving was _entirely_ inconvenient and unnecessary and—once again, just silly.

Still…

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she looked up again to see his raven head disappear from view. She hurried after him, feeling her breath caught in her throat.

"Har—" she called out, but the breath was shoved out of her when she slammed right into something and it wasn't until she stared up at the spinning ceiling of the library that she realized she had fallen. Head spiraling and back aching, she groaned miserably. She had just made it to the door of the library too.

"I'm terribly sorry Ginny!"

She slowly sat up to see Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Hufflepuff one year older, towering over her. He was, without any better way of saying it, exceptionally handsome. His attractive brown locks fell just over his intense cobalt eyes. Many girls would kill to be in her (painful) position. However, instead of looking at the gorgeous boy, she was straining to look over his shoulder in hopes of catching another glimpse of black hair.

"No problem, I was distracted, Justin," Ginny said politely. She was about to push herself off the ground when he quickly extended his hand so she felt it was only courteous if she took it, even though this whole ordeal was slowing her down. Once she was on her feet, though, it didn't appear as if he had any intentions of letting go of her any time soon. A flicker of annoyance went through her. By now, _he_ was probably gone.

"Can I make it up to you?" Justin asked, smiling charmingly. She idly wondered how someone could have such straight teeth.

"No, it's fine," she smiled in return. She wondered when he was going to let go of her hand. Shaking it off would be rude…but holding it for so long was quite rude also. "I'm not hurt, so…"

"But I insist," he pressed, not getting the hint that she wanted to leave. He took a step closer, much to her discomfort. "Hogsmeade weekend is coming up soon, you know…so why don't I treat you? Being D.A. buddies and all?"

He flashed his pearly whites once again.

"Erm," she said in the same polite voice with another polite smile, "There was no damage done, so it's quite all right. Also…I have ink all over my hand," she added in hopes that he would let go.

"Believe me," he laughed brushing away his brown hair with his free hand. She blinked for a moment. Had she really seen sparkles or had it just been her imagination? "Money is not a problem for _me._"

She felt an angry stab of annoyance. He didn't need to gloat about it. It wasn't as if _he _had earned that money so he shouldn't waste it so freely.

"I'd be more than delighted to accompany you," he continued, completely oblivious to her irritation. The he raised her hand to his lips with a smile. "And when has ink ever hurt anyone?"

She bit back an impatient sigh. This was very strange behavior coming from a bloke who barely spoke two words to her the year before. She opened her mouth to try to convince him one last time that she just didn't want to go with him when a loud holler cut her off.

"**Finch-Fletchley**! Just _what_ do you think you're doing?" Ron had appeared out of absolutely nowhere and had grabbed Justin by his collar. His blue eyes flashed menacingly at the poor, handsome boy. Justin instantly let go of her hand as if it had burned him. Hermione fluttered behind Ron, trying to calm him down.

"R-Ron! Old buddy old pal! I-I was just apologizing to your little sister here!" Justin laughed nervously, eyeing Ron's raised wand pointed directly at his perfect nose. Ginny refrained from gasping indignantly. What was with this change of attitude? How come "Ginny" had been replaced with "little sister?"

"Well, you've already _done_ that," Ron pointed out crossly as he attempted to wave Hermione off of his arm.

"That's enough Ronald!" she whispered fiercely.

"You'd better listen to your girlfriend," Ginny said warningly, tapping her wand against her palm. She wasn't in the mood for this, especially after missing the chance to catch up to Harry. She irritably blew away a scarlet strand of hair from her pale face.

"Stay out of this Ginny," Ron grunted, his eyes still on the slowly backing away Justin.

"Ha! For your in–for–ma–tion," she retorted snappily, jabbing his chest with each syllable. Ron let go of Justin's collar as Ginny pushed him back with each hard prod. Justin took this golden opportunity to run away. Ron opened his mouth to scream after the boy, but Ginny quickly interrupted him. "This has everything to do with _me_, and nothing to do with _you_!"

"Don't tell me you're actually interested in Finch-Fletchley!" Ron rubbed his sore chest as he glared at her incredulously. He looked as if she had sprouted an extra head or two. "He's not one bit good for you."

"I'll be the judge of that, thank you very much!"

"Well, _I_ don't like him."

"I don't **care** if you like him or not!" she screamed, shaking with fury. Why was it that he always had to do this? All of them? All of her six brothers. When would they return back to the loving days when it didn't matter what _gender_ she was? When they would all run around and get dirty in the backyard and she was their equal?

"Ron, she can take care of herself," Hermione insisted, tugging on her boyfriend's arm. Ginny looked at her best friend gratefully.

"B-But she's nothing but a kid!" Ron moaned like a child as if Ginny weren't there listening. The tears burned more than ever, but she refused to let them fall. That would mean defeat—and she absolutely refused to let him win. "She doesn't really know what's on these boys' minds. And it's my duty as—"

"It's your _duty_ to stay out of my business! You overbearing, _overprotective_, _**over**_—!"

"I'm only doing what's right for you!" he burst out. He would have stepped toward to her, but Hermione held him back, even though Ginny wouldn't have backed away.

"If you knew what was good for me, you would have never treated me like a stranger my first year! Where was your _duty _then?" she cried out. She had one satisfactory feeling of seeing his mouth drop open in shock. She would have felt a twinge of guilt for blaming him if she hadn't been so fed up. She turned to walk away when his falter voice stopped her.

"W-Wait, this isn't over!"

She swerved back and looked him right in the eye, so fiercely that his head jerked back involuntarily. "What? Do I have to wait until I find someone that _you_ think is worthy?"

"Well, I—" he stuttered unsurely. He seemed to want to say yes, but for once his logic was screaming at him not to.

"You know what, Ron? That will never happen! Because you'll never ever be fully satisfied with anyone! No one will ever be good enough—what you don't realize is that even if you or I or anyone else found this bloke it won't matter! He can be perfect, flawless, more wonderful than anything else in the world! He'll buy me my favorite flowers on our first date, he won't try to kiss me until our third date, he'll be the perfect gentleman, he'll know all the right things to say, he'll make you laugh and me laugh, and he'll make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world. But it won't matter unless he's—" The words streamed from her mouth and she couldn't hold it back anymore. She had been holding them too long. And she hated that she couldn't hold them any longer. "It won't matter because he'll never be the one that _I_ want!_"_

"Ginny…" Ron said softly.

"Save it!" Ginny said furiously, not sure whether she was angry with Ron or herself. She couldn't stand to see that horribly sad and pitying look on his face. She just turned away and hurried off in the direction she saw Harry going. "Just save it…"

* * *

Ginny was not one to not pay attention in class. She wasn't half as studious as her older brother Percy, but she liked to think that she was fairly decent - more than the Fred, George, or Ron anyway. So it was strange for her not to be paying attention in Transfigurations under the observant eye of Professor McGonagall. Still, here she was, staring blankly out the window with her chin propped on her hand when she should be focusing on changing her squirrel into a scarf. Idly she stroked the top of the squirrel's head.

It was funny really, how she and Harry became friends over the summer. He had visited the Burrow as always, but this time, instead of being with Ron and Hermione, he chose to spend time with her. Granted, he probably had only done it because Ron and Hermione were constantly fighting, but over time, they had become genuine friends, something she had not really hoped of ever achieving. Bonding over boxers had not been exactly the most romantic thing she had dreamed of, but she wasn't complaining.

She highly doubted any other girl had slept with him. Not in that sense, of course, but in the same bed. The squirrel rubbed its head back against her finger, as if agreeing with her. That, or it was thanking her for not turning it into an object.

She sighed into her hand lifelessly. Last night's conversation kept replaying over and over in her mind… She could still see him perfectly, but was not surprised at the least by this. He probably didn't realize how much she watched him. She practically had him memorized. Like the way he would fiddle with his Quill when he was deep in thought, or the way he ran his right hand through his hair when he was irritated, but used two hands when he was extremely frustrated, or how he would chew on his bottom lip when he was anxious… She could write a book about him if she really wanted to.

Yet out of all of the looks she knew so very well, the look she liked the best of all was his smiled. His entire face would light up, especially his emerald eyes. Those lips of his would curve upward, making his mature face lose all that tension and he would look like a teenager without the world on his shoulders. Somehow, the look never failed to warm her heart.

But last night it seemed to do the exact opposite.

He said, with that wonderful smile of his on his face, that he would find her someone perfect. But that wasn't what she cared about. All she wanted was…

Ginny smiled wearily at the squirrel, but pretended to seriously wave her wand as Professor McGonagall glanced her way. She felt a strange tingling on her neck and she glanced over her shoulder. Her friend Colin Creevey quickly ducked and focused on his squirrel, and she shrugged before returning to her thoughts.

It wasn't that she didn't appreciate what Harry was trying to do for her sake. She was happy that they were such good friends! And…she loved being friends with him. Honestly, she did. Just because whenever he touched her red hair…or spoke to her…or looked her way maybe – just because maybe sometimes they made her heart would beat a teeny tiny bit faster than usual didn't mean anything.

The hairs on her neck were standing on end again and made her shudder. _Who was doing that? _She swiftly and furiously inspected over her back, only to find that everyone was busily consumed with transfiguring his or her squirrel. So far no one had succeeded. With one last suspicious glance across the room, she returned to her thoughts.

That was right. Those strange feelings that arose whenever Ginny was with him were nothing but friendship. Harry was just a _friend_. That just so happens to now be her matchmaker. At least she trusted him with all her heart. Maybe she should really consider whomever he offered. She couldn't very well live her life this way! Not that…she was living it in any particular way because she didn't like a certain raven-haired boy. Undoubtedly not one that was the best Seeker in the school in the past century.

With the swish of her wand, she succeeded in changing her squirrel. Only somehow it had turned into a Snitch.

Thankfully, the class was dismissed before Professor McGonagall saw what she had accidentally done (and realized that the redhead had obviously not been paying attention). She swiftly caught the Snitch that was whizzing around her and stuffed it into her pocket. Without hesitation, she shoved her books and parchments away and made her way out of the classroom. She felt the huge urge to talk to Hermione, her best friend and was so concentrated in leaving that she nearly jumped when a hand grabbed her by the shoulder.

She saw a flash of dark hair, and for a moment her heart was in her throat.

"Ginny! I was waiting for you. Can…can we talk?"

The moment had passed as quickly as it had come when she found herself staring up into eager midnight blue eyes. It was Michael Corner, her ex-boyfriend. He still looked the same, with his dark brown bangs falling over his eyes. He was smiling a bit too widely and his cheeks were flushed. It was strange to see him here alone. The only times she seemed to ever see him this year had been when he was completely fused together with a certain raven-haired Ravenclaw.

She shrugged his hand off of her shoulder and her eyes darted around the corridor. Several people had noticed the odd pairing and were whispering among themselves.

"We don't have anything to talk about anymore, Michael," Ginny said firmly. "I thought I made that clear last year."

"No—Ginny, you see," he stammered, rubbing his neck nervously. She had to bite her tongue from telling him to stop that. It was something she only liked watching Harry do. "What I did last year…it was a mistake."

She simply raised an eyebrow. "Yes, and what you've done this year was perfectly fine."

"No! I mean, okay, I admit…my actions weren't the best or the wisest, but people make mistakes, right? So will you forgive me?" He grabbed her hands and she felt impatience run through her again.

"It's fine, Michael. I forgive you, but I don't see how it will help you any," she sighed. She just didn't want to deal with this.

"Great!" he laughed excitedly. "So you know a Hogsmeade trip is coming up soon, so we should definitely –"

"Wait, wait, wait," she interrupted him, twisting her hand from his as she glared up at him incredulously. Her voice rose with ever word. "Just because I forgive you doesn't mean that I want to get back together with you! Yesterday you were still snogging _Cho Chang_!"

Michael looked around him uneasily as people began to murmur loudly. Ginny honestly didn't care if she was creating a scene—even Colin Creevey was watching, and absently she was extremely grateful that he wasn't carrying his camera around with him anymore—but she just couldn't believe this! Just who exactly did Michael think he was? Did he really think she would just jump into his arms the moment that he turned her way?

"S-Shh, Ginny!" he whispered urgently, nervously shifting his feet, and once again his eyes darted around the hallway. Some people were literally just standing and watching while others quickly scurried away. "If this is about Cho—"

"No, this isn'tabout Cho Chang!" Ginny shoved him solidly on the chest. She felt a flash of pleasure at the shocked expression on his face. "Let me help you get this straight. I left _you. _I was the one that didn't want _you! _Though I do think you could have had the plain decency not to jump her the moment I dumped your sorry arse last year!"

"Look," he hissed angrily, his usually pale face flushed with humiliation. "I think you should be grateful that I'm coming back to you at all!"

"Oh!" she laughed bitterly, shaking her head in disbelief. "Is that so?"

"Yes! Don't think I've forgotten last year! When we were together, don't think that I didn't know whom you were really thinking about! All those times we had together were never good enough for you, were they?"

"That's a lie," she retorted. She really had enjoyed being with him in the beginning. Her hand tightened dangerously over her wand.

"You probably never even liked me!"

"That's not true and you know it," she said, hurt ringing in her voice. He had been the first boy to notice her…to really like her. Of course she had had feelings for him—she had given him all that she could. _He_ had not trusted her enough, and while in a way she didn't blame him, in another way that had hurt her more than she wanted to admit. He had always doubted her. And why was it that at this time and place, all she could think about was the one person that never had?

"Ha! What would have made you happier, Ginny? If I had a bloody scar on my face?"

"Don't," Ginny hissed warningly. The blood that was pounding against her head was boiling hotter and hotter. He had not just suggested what she thought he suggested.

"I bet when I was with you, who you thought about was really him!The one who was drooling over the girl that I have in the palm of my hand right now. The one who didn't even look at you. Harry _stinking_ Potter," he spat viciously under his breath so that only she could hear.

Her wand was raised and the words were out of her mouth before she even thought about it.

"_**ARGGGG**_!" The people around jumped back as they witnessed the results of Ginny's infamous hex. Satisfaction roared through her as she watched as enormous bat bogeys flew from Michael's nose and brutally attacked him. He fell on his arse while blindly fighting them by clawing at them helplessly.

"Don't you _dare_ say his name," Ginny said, her eyes blazing.

Then she turned and shoved past the bystanders. She fumed all the way down to the greenhouses for Herbology. The nerve of Michael! To say such things about Harry…! He never _wanted _a scar that marks the death of his parents! He never _wanted _to end up with horrible Muggles who hated and abused him horribly! He never _wanted _to grow up feeling like nobody could ever be capable of truly loving him! Hot tears burned her eyes.

Indeed, she was so wrapped up in her seething that she was jolted back into reality when she heard an unmistakable voice.

"…I'm sure the Gosenwobers or whatever you said are fascinating bird-eating plants, Neville. Sorry, I better go. I have a lot on my mind."

She watched in slow motion as a tall figure emerged from behind the high building and started heading toward her direction. His untidy black hair stuck out at various odd angles, his round black glasses slid slightly on his nose as he concentrated on a piece of parchment in his hand, and his teeth gnawed at his lower lip. Then, suddenly, he looked up and his brilliant green eyes looked straight at her. His thought-filled and pensive face suddenly broke out with a wide smile just for her.

Her heart lifted and clenched painfully at the same time.

Then the smile faded from Harry's face as he stepped closer. He quickly searched her for any injuries. "Ginny! You're – you're tearing up! What is it? What's wrong?"

The concern and worry behind his voice and the look in his emerald eyes were enough to make her cry. She sniffed and let out a watery laugh at the same time. Why did he have to care…? It always made her wish for more.

"I was just thinking about a certain Snitch-covered pair of boxers," she teased, wiping away a stray tear as she forced a smile. "Made me want to cry with laughter."

Harry looked a bit unconvinced, but relief flooded his body. His shoulders lost their built up tension as he smiled at her again. He gently smoothed her bangs away from her eyes.

"You promised not to mention that, silly."

"Yup, that's me," Ginny smiled, wiping another tear that had escaped from her eyes. "Silly Ginny. Silly, silly Ginny."

* * *

Naru-chan:What did you think? I know it's a bit sadder than A Matchless Match...but it seemed like it should be. Please review and tell me what you think! 


	2. Chapter 2: Way Too Much Girl Talk

Merged Moments

By: Lady Lithe

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Or Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton's poem.

Naru-chan: Hello everyone! A long, long delay...I know, I'm sorry, but it's extra long! So I hope you enjoy!

Note: this reflects some of chapter 3 (I think it was) of Sweet Days of Summer, and chapter two of A Matchless Match happens in between this chapter. You should read those before this!

* * *

Chapter Two: Way Too Much Girl Talk

_Girls are…scary…-Takuto_

"He said he's going to _what?_" Hermione shrieked—something Ginny would have found quite amusing had her best friend been doing it at any other time. The redhead glanced around to see several people quickly turning away their heads. "Wait…wait, wait, wait…"

Hermione pressed her hand against her wrinkled forehead as she slowly lowered herself back to her seat (she had jumped up and slammed her hands on the common room table when she rose). She gnawed on her lower lip as her right hand busily tugged at her messy curls. Ginny smiled wryly at her friend. It was rare to see the brunette baffled for she usually knew everything.

Then Hermione's brown eyes pierced Ginny's eyes.

"Let me get this straight. After the fight with Ron, you stumbled across Harry."

_More like sought, but… _Ginny nodded.

"And then you ranted about Ron to him."

_Wouldn't call it ranting, but… _Ginny nodded.

"And then he says he's going to be your matchmaker. This is…this is very strange," Hermione said slowly, furiously pondering over this new piece of information. "It just does not add up."

Leave it up to Hermione to turn this into a math problem. Ginny smiled wryly before asking her frowning friend, "What's your verdict?"

"I know you and Harry grew close over this summer, but I never thought… Well, you know Harry. He never likes to concern himself with things like…girls."

"Right," Ginny agreed carefully, her brown eyes darkening with thought.

"In fact, he's downright terrible with them," Hermione smiled dryly. "Except with you and me – but of course he doesn't really see me as a girl. I'd say he sees me more like…a comrade. Or even a sister."

"Mmm," Ginny answered, twirling her emerald green quill in her hand.

"So the fact that he would go out of his way to do this — to actually try to think like a…a…"

"Girl," Ginny finished for Hermione.

"Exactly! I just don't understand. Ron," Hermione rolled her brown eyes at the mention of her boyfriend, "would never do something like that for me. So why would Harry?" Slowly, her eyes widened and she stared at Ginny, an enigmatic smile forming. "You don't think…"

"Oh no, no, no," Ginny quickly shook her head. She could read Hermione easily. It made her nervous, however, because she wondered just how well Hermione would read her. "It's not like that. Come on Hermione, think about it. If he _did_— and he doesn't — he would not want to set me up with someone else, obviously. And…we've become pretty close, I'll admit, but it's not like that." When Hermione opened her mouth again, Ginny interrupted her unwaveringly. "It's. Not."

"All right, all right," Hermione conceded. Then she looked at Ginny with a bit of concern. "And…how are you holding up in all this?"

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, dragging a hand through her scarlet locks.

"Well, first that little outburst with Ron, then Harry saying all this, and last Michael Corner and you had a fight." At Ginny's questioning gaze, she said, "Word spreads pretty quickly, doesn't it? That's what happens when you share a room with Lavender and Parvati. Really, those two know more information about blokes than I'll ever want to. But…do you want to talk about it?"

"Michael wanted to get back together with me." Ginny smiled when Hermione's face twisted into disbelief. "Exactly. Even though just yesterday I saw him snogging Cho like there was no tomorrow, not that I particularly care. Needless to say, I put down his attempts. Can you believe he actually thought I'd be _begging_to get back into him arms? As if I'd jump into his arms, tears leaking down my face if he gave me the time of day?"

"Sorry," Hermione tried to muffle her laughter, "but that image_is_rather comedic."

"Anyway, I wasn't going to hex him but then he said the most despicable things that I just couldn't control myself," Ginny spat out, stabbing her quill against her parchment.

"What did he say?" Hermione asked quietly.

"He said…he said…" Ginny's voice shook, much to her annoyance. She dropped her quill and rubbed her aching head. She allowed her voice to drop wearily. "He said I would have cherished him more if he had a scar on his face."

"Oh Ginny," Hermione said, reaching out to comfort the other girl.

"I really did like him and I really did want to be with him." Ginny took a in a shaky breath. "So it's not true, right? I don't… Not like that. I don't like The Chosen One. I just…"

"Of course you don't," Hermione said soothingly, but firmly. "As strange as it sounds, I think Ron was right about Corner. He was always a prat. A bit too possessive in my opinion. And not in a good way."

"Yes, well," Ginny smiled slightly. "What do you think I should do about the whole Harry thing?"

"I think," Hermione said slowly, carefully watching Ginny with her eyes, which gleamed with something hidden that Ginny couldn't put her finger on, "you should wait and let the chips fall as they may."

"And as Ron would say," Ginny said with a wry grin, "when did we start talking about food?"

* * *

The rain had always been Ginny's best friend. It had been raining the first night that she and Harry spent as friends. The two of them, sick and bedridden, had settled themselves by the fire in the Burrow. He lay on the couch while she sat curled on the floor right beside him. The constant pitter-patter of the rain was the only company to Ginny's soft voice as she read aloud to him. Sometime during that timeframe, Harry had dozed off, yet she had not been offended. The two of them were tired. She recalled gazing at his peaceful face with the firelight dancing over it.

It had been a long time before she slept.

That's why, after such a long day, Ginny didn't hesitate to run outside the moment the rain began to fall. It helped her release all the pent-up feelings inside. And a little water never hurt anyone.

So it was a great surprise to meet Harry on her way to the Great Hall for dinner. There had been something strange in the encounter. Had it just been her imagination, or had Harry been acting a little…off?

Ginny fingered her damp crimson hair as she entered the Great Hall, where she was promptly greeted by the pleasant sounds of clicking silver forks, knives, and spoons, accompanied with chatter. It wasn't that odd for him to have touched her hair. It had become a little habit of his. This time, however…the feeling had been a little bit different. His words echoed in her mind.

_I like your hair down._

Since when had he cared about her hair?

"Ginny!"

She nearly jumped when she felt a hand grasp her arm quite forcefully. She turned to find herself looking straight into two large, dark eyes staring directly at her. The girl had long black hair and a wide girlish smile on her face.

"Oh, Ginny darling, I've been looking all over for you! Where have you been?"

"Do I know you?" Ginny had never seen this girl before.

"No," the girl replied unabashedly as she dragged Ginny down the aisle of the Gryffindor table. "But _I_know_you_. My name is Romilda, Romilda Vane. I'm a year younger than you are and a Gryffindor too, of course. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasure's…mine," Ginny said hesitantly, so baffled by this that she let this peculiar girl pull her until they finally stopped in front of a the table surrounded by females. She recognized several of them. Older Gryffindors, girls from her year, and many younger girls. Their matching black robes and red and gold ties made them all look eerily alike. This was making the situation stranger and stranger!

"Look who decided to join us," Romilda sang as if Ginny had come willingly. She pulled Ginny into a seat. There was a gleam in her dark eyes and a flush on her pale cheeks that Ginny just did not like.

"Hello," Ginny said hesitantly, feeling all the girls' eyes on her. Uneasily, she pushed her red hair away from her face.

"Ginny Weasley, correct?" one of the older girls asked, but she continued before Ginny could respond. "Partrica Stimpson."

"And I'm Victoria Frobisher," the girl next to her said with a smile, dipping a bit of bread into her tomato soup. "We're both seventh years."

"Nice to meet you," Ginny said, still confused about what was happening. She shot a look at Romilda. "But I'm sorry — all of you, erm, but is there a _reason_that I'm here?"

"Of course," Romilda laughed and the other girls joined in. A lick of anger flashed through Ginny. She didn't see what was so humorous about this situation considering that she was rather forced here. "You see, we've all wanted to speak to you for a long, long time."

"Very long," another girl echoed with wide, gray eyes. She looked like she was in Romilda's year.

"You see," Romilda continued, though she lowered her voice to a stage whisper, "we are assembled here because we are…" She paused to look around to make sure no one unwanted was listening before quickly ducking her head again and saying, "all in love with Harry Potter."

Ginny nearly toppled off her seat.

"You're all _what_?" Ginny cried.

"In love with Harry," Lavender Brown repeated from her seat. She was twirling her blonde hair in her hand. Parvati Patil waved happily from her seat beside her best friend, her rich chocolate eyes greeting Ginny.

"_Lavender and Parvati?" _Ginny cried incredulously. Her head was spinning. "You…you two can't possibly…"

"Well, no, we don't," Parvati agreed with a smile. "No really. We just happen to be part of every association in this school. You know, they throw pretty good parties and are pretty organized."

"The gossip too," Lavender giggled.

Ginny should have figured the two of them couldn't stand being left out of…anything that involved talking about boys and squealing.

"And Lavender's just trying to distract herself now that she and Seamus are officially off."

"_Parvati!"_Lavender shrieked, appalled, spilling some of her orange Pumpkin Juice onto her white blouse.

"But aside from them, most of us are in love with him," Victoria said, taking a delicate bite of fried chicken.

"We're absolutely infatuated by the boy," Susan Bones said from the Hufflepuff table behind them. Ginny's head whipped around to stare at the sixth year and ex-fellow D.A. member. Her eyes were far away and her pale cheeks were colored a deep hue. "Most of the Hufflepuff girls are."

"Can't help it," Hannah Abbott sighed dreamily, her two blonde pigtails swinging by her pale face. Ginny stared at her, vaguely remembering that she had been one of the first who believed Harry had been the Heir to Slytherin. She had also been a member of the D.A.

"Wait — what happened with Ernie?" Ginny asked, trying to repress the rush of panic that flooded her as her head spun. All these Gryffindors…and Hufflepuffs too?

"Psh," Hannah hissed foully, shaking her chicken leg in the air vigorously. She tried to keep the bitterness from her voice, but she didn't succeed too well. "Ernie and I are just friends. Besides, he has someone else in mind now. But Harry…he's so much better!"

"Don't forget us Ravenclaws," another girl spoke up from yet another table. "Who do you think organizes all the information, _hmm_?"

"Shush! We _know_! Lisa Turbin. She always feels that the Ravenclaws don't get that much attention because Cho Chang is a Ravenclaw and she's the only one that ever got to be with Harry," Romilda explained to Ginny as if this all made perfect sense. "Ravenclaws think that we don't like them because of that."

"Look, that's all very nice, but I just—" Ginny started.

"Anyway, did you all see him walking down the halls today?" giggled Partrica, her face a rosy red. Her eyes glazed over along with several other girls and they sighed.

"He was writing something," another fourth year squeaked.

"Do you think I should try to get my hands on it?" Victoria voiced as the additional girls burst into giggles at her audacity.

"What, you think it's a love letter or something?" a snobbish voice sniffed. "It's not going to someone like _you_obviously."

Ginny had to be dreaming. And having a nightmare.

"P-Parkinson?"

The sour Slytherin girl stuck her nose high into the air and regarded Ginny coldly. "Don't you dare speak my name, you Weasel."

Ginny bared her teeth at the horrible girl. How could a Slytherin like — much less _love_Harry?

"You've got to be kidding me!" she snorted. "Whatever happened to your doting on Malfoy, hmm?"

Pansy Parkinson's extremely pale face stained a faint pink as she glared at the redhead. "Shut up, you…_you_! I don't want to hear anything from _you_. Whose fault do you think it is that I'm in this thing, _eh_?"

_Whatever that meant. Bovine cow, _Ginny thought to herself as she clutched her head. It was hurting so much… She knew that Harry had become extremely popular over the summer because he had grown taller and those extra Quidditch games hadn't exactly hurt his physique, but this was…this was…

"Don't worry about them," Romilda assured Ginny as she gestured toward the group of Slytherins that were listening from the table, though it was as far away from the Gryffindors as possible. "They're unofficially part of the group."

"What are you—a _network_?"

"We prefer to call ourselves the Secret Society of Harry Potter Full of Infinite Love," Romilda smiled. "SSOHPFOIL for short," she added with a wink.

_Like that's hard to remember,_ Ginny thought sarcastically, the blood pounding in her head. Harry would hate to learn that he had a fanclub.

"I'm sorry," Ginny said in a strangled voice, "but can one of you tell me why _I'm_here?"

The girls immediately hushed and exchanged looks with one another.

"Ginny — may I call you Ginny?" Romilda asked, but continued before Ginny could respond. The girl handed Ginny a cup of Pumpkin Juice. "You see we all love Harry Potter very, very much."

"Very much," the same girl beside Romilda echoed. Ginny refrained from hexing the annoying girl.

"And…hmm, the only thing is, none of us are really…_close_to him. You, however, are his best friend's sister. Friend maybe. I might go as far as to say _sister._"

Ginny spat out the Pumpkin Juice she had poured into her mouth. She choked and sputtered as the girls around her squealed in revulsion. The headache of hers had now increased tenfold, encouraged by their cries.

_She was like Harry's _sister?

"And so," Romilda continued cheerfully, completely unaware of Ginny's horrified expression as she waved away the Pumpkin Juice with her wand, "we want _you_to…hmm, how should I put this concisely? Eloquently? Well, we've been observing the two of you and it seems utterly, and I mean _utterly_, platonic, so we thought you wouldn't mind a little favor from us. What I'm trying to say — have been trying to say really, is very simple. We want you to find us some information."

The younger girl shoved a long roll of parchment into Ginny's hands. Ginny simply stared blankly at her. This girl, who was so bold and so confident that she was almost falsely confident…she didn't love Harry. Romilda didn't even knowHarryShe just loved Harry Potter, _the Boy Who Lived_. So how could she be so straightforward?

Part of her couldn't help but whisper enviously in her ear that this girl at least had the nerve to say the words that she never had.

"You'll do it for us, won't you?" Romilda fluttered her eyelashes. "I mean, you understand, of course, how we feel — you were once, I heard, a fan girl of Harry yourself."

Ginny opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

"Good!" Romilda smiled sanguinely, placing a hand on Ginny's shoulder and squeezing tightly. "We're trusting you."

* * *

_Just who does she think she is?_ Ginny fumed, shoving her hand into her pillow violently. Then she dropped her head onto the abused object with a sigh. The questions kept on creeping back to her. She tossed and turned, trying to escape them, but they refused the leave her be.

What type of cologne does he use?

It was obvious that Harry didn't use cologne! He smells more like treacle tart, sweat, and grass stains…

What's his favorite pastime?

Even an idiot could figure out that it was Quidditch! And if he wasn't in the air, he was cleaning his fantastic Firebolt. He would sit in front of the fireplace, holding his precious broom, and using the cleaning kit Hermione had given him during his third year. The look in his eyes when he looked at his broom…it was pure and simple love.

What is his type of girl?

Ginny let out an unfeminine snort. Pretty, good at Quidditch, smart, brave. Someone who knew his needs and could comfort him through thick and through thin. At least that was what _she_ thought. However, from his past record, it seemed more like pretty, good at Quidditch, smart, cowardly, needy, clingy, crybaby! Ginny groaned and tossed in her bed. That wasn't right of her to think like that… Cho had gone through a lot in the past two years. First she lost Cedric, and then there was that whole Umbridge-trying-to-sack-her-mum issue along with Harry. Cho should have just left Harry be.

With one last toss, she shoved herself off the bed. She wasn't going to get any sleep at this rate so she might as well go down into the Common Room and…well, mull over it there in front of the fire. She loved the quiet flicker and crackle of the fire that sufficed as company during long nights like these.

Ginny wasn't sure if she should be surprised, amused, or annoyed when she found Harry alone lying on his back on the couch, his face heavenward, and his eyes closed.

With a sigh, she moved toward him, settling on her knees. She hovered above his face, careful that her hair did not touch him lest he woke from his soft slumber. Propping her elbows against the sofa and placing her face into her hands, she sighed, allowing herself the pleasure of simply staring at Harry (after she double checked to ensure that no one else was present — Merlin knows where those fan girls could be hiding). There was something serene about him when his face was not scrunched up in fear, anger, weariness.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," she murmured to herself, resisting the urge to brush aside a stray lock of black hair from his face. "What am I going to do with you?"

The only response she received was the crackling of the fire behind her. She tilted her head, deep in thought. Someone…perfect for her, Harry had promised her. But she had gotten over that dream a long time ago. She shifted, leaning closer.

"Harry," she whispered softly, more to herself than to him. "What's your type of girl?"

His eyebrows knit together and for one terrifying moment, she held her breath. Had he heard her? What would he think? Would he…tell her? But instead he simply let out a small sigh and she exhaled unsteadily.

Suddenly she backed away, flushing, and let out a little laugh. What was she doing? Holding her breath again? For Harry Potter? No… She wasn't eleven anymore. She smiled grimly to herself and began to rise when she felt a hand take hold of hers.

"G—"

She froze, stunned, eyes locked on him.

"Gin…ny…" Harry murmured in his sleep. The pained expression on his face made her heart clench.

An inexplicable feeling consumed her as she collapsed by his side, burying her face into the couch—so close, yet so far from him.

"Idiot," she whispered harshly, holding his hand tightly. She wasn't sure if she was referring to him or to herself.

It was a little while later when she felt something touching her hair that she stirred. She hadn't even been aware of dozing off. She blinked the sleep away from her eyes and stopped. That couldn't be…was she dreaming again or was Harry Potter staring at her with the strangest expression ever?

Was he _blushing_?

"Harry?" Ginny murmured, rubbing her eyes, making sure she wasn't dreaming.

"Er—morning," he smiled sheepishly, busying himself by pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "Er–night, I mean. It's still night. I wasn't doing anything — I was just—!" He stopped, letting out a long, embarrassed breath. "T-There was something in your hair."

Ginny let out a small laugh.

"So, uh, how…how are you?" he propped himself up on his elbow, scratching his head awkwardly.

"I'm…fine," she smiled. "And you? What are you doing here so late? Alone?"

"Er, couldn't sleep," he answered, finally sitting properly. "Stomach pains today or something… But it's gone now, I think," he added quickly when he noted her alarmed expression. "And what about yourself?"

"Hm, couldn't sleep either," she answered wryly, pressing her chin into her palm.

"Thinking?"

"Yes." She wasn't going to very well tell him that she had been thinking about his fans.

There was a beat of silence. Then —

"Hey, Ginny?" Harry spoke softly, causing her to lift her head. "Do you…think you can read to me?"

She blinked, her mouth slightly hanging. This time, without a doubt, his face was flushed a light hue. She bit back a smile. Then her heart jerked. The other girls. They wanted him. And who was she, his so called _sister_, to stop him? She couldn't bear it.

"Of course, just like old times," she said, fighting to keep her voice casual. She watched as relief (and happiness?) flashed in his green eyes. "But only on one condition."

"What's that?" Now his eyes turned curious, hesitant. She took a deep breath before rising from her kneeling position and sitting right next to him.

"Let me lie on your lap," she blurted out, not believing her own boldness.

"_What?"_Harry nearly jumped away.

"It's not like _that_silly," Ginny laughed, trying her best to ignore the stinging from her chest. "You know…like old times. The nice, comfortable feeling of the Burrow, you know? And, well, to be honest, my legs are a bit sore from that awkward position I fell asleep in on the floor."

"Oh," he cleared his throat excessively. "Ha, yeah, like old times. Yeah…" A tender smile unfolded on his face. "I'd like that."

"I'll recite you some poetry," she said easily as she laid her head on his lap. It was soft, but firm from all of his Quidditch practice no doubt. It was warm… She closed her eyes and began to speak.

"_I do not love thee!"_

Harry flinched. Ginny stopped, and looked at him questioning. He smiled with a bit too much teeth, trying to reassure her. She wasn't sure what to make of this, so she closed her eyes and began once more.

"_I do not love thee! —no! I do not love thee!  
And yet when thou art absent I am sad;  
And envy even the bright blue sky above thee,  
Whose quiet stars may see thee and be glad."_

She could feel him breathing. In…out… In…out… Steady, calming. Reliable. Funny how just being close, perhaps not even having to be_this_close, could comfort her so, washing away any troubles that burdened her mind.

"_I do not love thee! —yet, I know not why,  
Whate'er thou dost seem still well done, to me;  
And often in my solitude I sigh  
That those I do love are not more like thee!"_

Sometimes she thought it would be better if there were others like him. Then it wouldn't have to be him. But then…she would probably be asking for more heartache.

"_I do not love thee! —yet, when thou art gone,  
I hate the sound (though those who speak be dear)  
Which breaks the lingering echo of the tone  
Thy voice of music leaves upon my ear."_

His voice wasn't really music. It was usually gruff, a little boyish, but much more grown-up than most adults, but to her, it sounded just right. And that was probably why she loved to listen to him speak, even when he fumbled with his words. Not that he ever did around her.

"_I do not love thee! —yet thy speaking eyes,  
With their deep, bright, and most expressive blue,  
Between me and the midnight heaven arise,  
Oftener than any eyes I ever knew."_

At a word, Harry jerked slightly, but she barely noticed. He smelled of fresh air and earth. Everything real. The only things she ever wanted. Not a prince, not a knight. Just…

"_I do not love thee! Yet alas!  
Others will scarcely trust my candid heart;  
And oft I catch them smiling as they pass,  
Because they see me gazing where thou art."_

There was a slight pause before Harry whispered quietly, "Are you…are you and Michael Corner back together?"

Ginny nearly jolted off the couch. "_What?_Where did you hear _that_rubbish"

"Oh, here and there," he answered vaguely. He wouldn't look her in the eye.

"Well," she huffed, settling back down on his lap. Looking up at him, she continued to speak. "I'll have you know that that will never happen. In fact, I gave him a taste of my famous Bat-Bogey hex — he deserved it of course."

"Of course," Harry echoed, a boyish smile now on his face. "So…the poem was just…"

"What do you mean?" she asked cautiously, her eyes flickering toward the fireplace.

"Well," he hesitated, "it said blue eyes and whatnot, and you know, Corner has blue eyes and all, so…well, it's just that—"

"Just that?"

"If…if by any chance you did get back together with him and all, then my matchmaking skills wouldn't be needed anymore," he finished.

"Oh." Ginny felt empty all of a sudden, as if the small bit of hope she had allowed to swell in her chest had been swiftly burst. Of course that was all.

"But I'm…glad that you didn't…get back together with him," Harry said with some difficulty. He ran a hand through his black hair. "He's…a prat and all and you deserve better."

Ginny couldn't help but smile. She shifted, curling like a cat against him.

"Yes," she agreed, "but enough talk. I'm all talked out for once."

* * *

Naru-chan: Wow...finished with chapter two. I'm so sorry for the delay, but I made it extra long to make it up! I hope you enjoyed it. The poem, by the way, was written by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton.

So, did you like my twist? Harry Potter's fanclub. :) In case you were going to question certain people liking Harry (ahem - Slytherins), I should remind you that a lot of boys like Ginny (she doesn't know it of course), and in turn, because the boys won't pay attention to them, they lavish their attention of the Boy Who Lived. Now I can start to write the real epilogue because you know this detail.

Anyway, I once again apologize for the long delay, but if you review, it will be a big incentive for me to continue. So I will humbly beg for a review here. :X I would love hearing any comments or criticisms or particular requests. Thank you for reading!


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